


Side Order Of Fries

by in_a_mellow_tone (orphan_account)



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Lemon, M/M, NSFW, One Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-20 18:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 18,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9505310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/in_a_mellow_tone
Summary: Just a set of drabbles, one shots, and requests





	1. Sick days (Connor x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor seems sick when you wake up. Naturally, you have to take care of him.

The night was quiet and still. The occasional cricket made its chirp and the leaves could be heard rustling in the autumn wind. Both you and Connor were sleeping off a long day of training. That is, until a set of wracking coughs woke you up with a jolt. You looked around the dark room only to see Connor hunched over the edge of the bed/

“Are you okay?” You croaked out, still weary with sleep.

“I am fine,” Followed by another set of coughs from Connor.

“Let me see you . Turn around,” You demanded, and he turned around reluctantly.

“I told you. I am fine.”

You sluggishly put your hand up to his forehead, internally cringing at how hot it was. “Babe,” You started out slowly and cautiously, no longer feeling sleepy, I think you’re sick.

Connor just grumbled, “I can not be sick.”

“Maybe you should get some more sleep and we can see in the morning?” You kindly stroked his arm, a sign of comfort.

All Connor did was flop down under the covers. Snoring quite quickly.

_______

The sun rose quickly and with her rise came the sounds of many annoying birds, waking you up from a sleep that was much too short. You looked over to where Connor was on the bed and saw that he’d gotten worse overnight. He was sweating a bit, had bags under his eyes, and a red looking throat. Carefully, you got out of bed and drew some hot water for the bathtub, taking your time and letting Connor sleep. The only thought on your mind was how you could help Connor.

After that was done you kneeled beside the bed towards his back and nudged him awake with kindness on his shoulder. “Connor, are you feeling okay?”

All he did was move his head no, his throat probably hurting like crazy.

“I drew a nice hot bath for you, do you want to take it?” Concern was the only thing laced in your voice.

Connor slowly turned to face towards you with his eyes still closed and shook his head slowly as a yes. Poor thing probably had a headache, too.

“Okay, i’ll make some soup while you take a bath,” He never wanted you in the bathroom with him, always liking his privacy.

With that you closed out the light with the heavy curtains, put on pants and a shirt, and left the room quietly to get a chicken from one of the farmers. The air outside was frigid for being the early morning, but you went nonetheless. The walk was calm but, again, your thoughts were riddled with worry for Connor. Shortly, however, a neighbour nearby gave you one of his chickens, already plucked.

You got in the worn kitchen immediately once you returned home, setting a pot full of water and chicken juice on one of the burners. You could hear the bathroom door close open and close. Meaning Connor was taking his bath.

While waiting for the pot to bubble you grabbed a few carrots, herbs, and onions to cut them up into neat cubes, moving on to the chicken next. Once finished cutting, you added the cut up food and chicken into the now boiling pot. Now was to let it cook while you heard Connor shuffle upstairs.

Connor came down, still slightly wet, in his undershirt and pants with a sniffle, “Is the soup done yet?” He grabbed a bowl.

You opened the lid and smelled deeply, “Yep, help yourself.” The scent was amazing, filling the small cooking space quickly.

Connor quietly dipped his bowl in the pot and got all the lentils, vegetables, and herbs you had put in there and sipped it right on the spot. His eyes opened wide, “This is good, thank you, Y/N.”

He just stood there and sipped the bowl, eventually taking more from the pot and cleaning it off. You just watching him wolf it down like he hadn’t eaten in days. Before walking back up to the bedroom with him.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?” You tried to stifle a yawn but the effort of getting somebody healthy again had left you sick.

He only nodded and laid down with you under the assortment of blankets and animal pelts. His sleep sounding more peaceful this time around before you nodded off, too.

The next morning, though, you woke up with a blistering headache, sore throat, and a nasty sniffling nose. Great.


	2. Shay's first date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shay bumps into you at the marketplace before he decides that a date on a rooftop would be a lovely idea.

The dress you put on was fancy. Filled with lace and as green as a lucky shamrock. It had to be fancy. Tonight you were going on a date with a guy that tackled you earlier. All he did was apologise and shout you a time to be ready by. You assumed it was a date by the way his voice was when running away but you couldn’t be sure.

“Wait,” You mumbled to yourself, “Didn’t he say rooftop?” Oh no. This would mean climbing. Which means you’d have to change.

A knocking was prevalent on the door the second you finished that thought. No time to change now.

You walked down the worn and almost black staircase whilst the knocking continued. Your shoes echoed in the empty house. And the lighting that the candles gave off was almost repeating that loneliness you had when living alone. You opened the door slowly, revealing the man that had sacked you on your errand run. From the looks of it, he still had mud on the bottom of his coat and all over his boots. However, he was handsome with his aged face and hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail.

“Well, Lass, you clean up well,” His voice carried that Irish lit you barely could hear earlier. IT suited him well, though.

“Better than you,” You quipped back, gesturing at his boots

“What can I say, I have a dirty job,” And with that he held out his arm for you to take it and started walking.

You looked around at the night sky. Her assortment of purples and blues were barely visible from street view but were nice anyways. Once out of your daze you figured you should start up some conversation, “So, Mr...” You completely blanked on his name. Never telling you in the first place.

He gave a soft chuckle, “You can call me Shay, Lass. And what can I say your name is?”

“Y/N,” You said curtley, “Where are we going to, Shay,” His name sounded so right on your tongue. It suited him so well.

“Dinner,” He stated so bluntly you had to wonder what manners he had.

“And where is that dinner at?” You really hoped you misheard him when he said rooftop.

“The rooftop of,” He looked around and pulled you swiftly into an abandoned building, “This building.”

You clinged closer to him. The building on the inside was cold and grey, almost as if it had been destroyed in a fire. It had been so warm outside so why was it so damn cold in here?

He said nothing but only lead you up two flights of stairs only to come to a ladder that was coming out of the already high ceiling

“Ladies first,” He gestured towards the ladder, “And I promise not to peek,” His voice had a hint of humour on it.

You reluctantly stepped towards and began a slow ascent on it. The wood clicking under your shoes.

He followed a few rungs behind and only looked up to see if you were okay. Once you got to the top the view was breathtaking.

The first thing you noticed was a table with a pristine white tablecloth. Candles were strewn about the table and the roof, giving it a warm and friendly glow. On the table was a feast fit for a king. A whole turkey that had been roasted on the spit. It made your mouth water now that you were a little closer and could smell it. You looked down and over the edge of the roof. The streets of Boston looked brighter from up above. Less filled with drunks and more with happy people. The sky was amazing. It was a canvas of reds, blues, purples, and whites. The whole thing was overwhelming.

“Care to take a seat, Y/N?”

You whirled around to see him on the other side of the roof pulling out a chair for you. You hadn’t even noticed that you walked to the other edge.

“Thank you, Shay,” You sat down with grace. The shamrock dress around you flowing amazingly.

He took a seat from across you and carved the turkey. You dug in as soon as you could.

The night was filled with his stories of humour and tales of adventure. Your laughs filling the empty space. The food was no less than amazing and it filled you right up to the core. 

But, as all thing, it came to an end and he had to escort you home. Although, it wasn’t very somber. Now was your times to spin funny happenstances into entire stories and what adventures. His laughs and sarcastic comments egged you on and on. It was almost he had a chuckle woven of gold. It was a pure enjoyment to the ears. And so was his accent.

At the end of the walk you finally got home and he closed the door, leaving you for the night. And now, the candles seemed to glow with hope and joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys like this one! I already have so much kudos ^.^. Make sure to follow assassin-tales on Tumblr if you want to see more works!


	3. Jacob surprise (favourite)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You had just broken up with Jacob Frye and looked to have something to drink your emotions away until you got into a bar fight.

The pub was crowded. Every sense was filled. It was impeccably loud, smoke and beer hung in the air, your face and stomach felt warm from the ale currently on your lips, and your eyes couldn't focus on one single thing. All because of that Jacob Frye.

You two had been dating for 5 months when he broke it up. Saying, “It's not you, it's me.”

“What cliché bullshit,” you thought as you took a swig. The words echoing in your drunken skull. But nothing came to your lips. Empty.

Thinking that you had enough for one night, you paid the bartender and grabbed your jacket off the back of your seat. You slipped one arm in the jacket and felt somebody recoil from you slapping them on the back.

“Hey!” You moved your head to see who called, making it much harder when your brain was moving at a different pace then your head.

“What?” You slurred out. Your tongue no longer having feeling.

The brute stood in front of you. Breathing heavily. He was so much taller than you and wearing the god-awful green that was everywhere in your vision. Looking a little down you saw beer on his chest, that you probably spilled.

“You owe me a new beer,” he was growling now, probably agitated from the drink.

“I've got no more money,” a quick shrug of your shoulders and you were off. Until you felt a hand on your small shoulder.

“I don't think so,” his voice was a growl now. The bar becoming quiet at what prospect was to arise.

“Wanna fight about it? I don't have any money, mate.”

All you felt was a shove forward away from where you were standing. A circle of people surrounding you. Chants rising up.

“Alright,” you mumbled, shift you coat off and onto the floor, “ Let's do this.”

It was a blur. Green coat after green coat. Punches, kicks, and the occasional knife. It was the most fun you’ve had in awhile. Your vision cleared up and you could fight even better, and more importantly, coherently.

That's when a booming voice silenced your fun. “Stop! What's going on here, Rooks?”

You didn't need to see who that voice belonged to. You already knew. It made your blood boil at the thought that he'd be looking for you. The humour was still in his voice like nothing happened.

He stepped into the ring to see who was fighting. That's when he caught a glimpse of you. Your hair was a mess, clothes unbuttoned and blood on your dress shirt. And my was his face priceless. Shock with a twist of confusion was ever present.

“What're you doing here, love?” He tossed his hands to the side, gesturing to the few living bodies on the floor.

“Shut up and fight me, Frye.”

He only gave a scoff in return. Not taking your challenge to heart.

“Don't believe me? I beat those men. I can beat you.”

“You wouldn't hurt me,” his voice was but a growl now, like he was taunting you.

“Why not? You hurt me!” The tears were streaming down your face. Stupid emotions. Stupid drunken emotions.

“I did it to protect you!” The sudden yell took you off guard. Almost as he was furious at your justified accusation.

You recoiled back, shocked at the sudden yell. “I'm sorry?” You whimpered out, voice strained from emotion.

“Look around, Y/N. I'm the leader of this gang. I did it so you wouldn't get hurt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like this! I don't really feel ready to write out fighting scenes so i apologize for this one being so short, maybe sometime in the future it'll be better.


	4. Altaïr's trip to Acre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Altaïr brings you to Acre to meet Maria you two leave much quicker than expected

She was always good at sword fighting. Always good at running away. Always good at gettinon your nerves.

Maria Thorpe. The templar woman from Acre.

Ever since Altaïr went to Acre to kill Robert at Majd Addin’s funeral he’s been going away on more “Missions” visiting the woman that masked herself as his target. And it pissed you off to no end.

You were his best friend. He was supposed to be spending time with you, not this Templar.

“Y/N,” Altaïr’s calm voice was risen above the dusty stomping of horse hooves. The air thick with sand and ethereal smells.

“Yes?” You snapped out of your daze, looking about to see that it was, in fact, nighttime. Altaïr had asked you to join him on one of his often trips to Acre. He wanted you to meet Maria and bringing you along made the trips seem less suspicious of him. At least that what he told you.

“We should set up camp,” Altaïr stated matter-of-factly. Expertly getting off of the brown steed and tieing it up to a tree nearby. Taking off the saddle blanket as you began to dismount yours.

You did the same, albeit a little slower. The tree you tied it up to was scarred from the winds of the desolate desert, it's branches curling in every which way. You placed your blanket across from Altaïr. Once that was finished, you collected dry sticks from around the area. It proved to be an easy task.

Altaïr was sitting cross legged on the blanket. Sending a spark here and there at the small pile of kindling already gathered. Soon, a fire started. Greedily lapping at the dry sticks. Orange hues lit up the surrounding area when it was big enough. You sat down on your blanket and lowered your hood, analysing the features that were visible on Altaïr. The shadow cast by his hood hid those wonderful jasper irises from you. 

You’ve never seen him without his hood but you’ve gotten close enough to see the rest of his face. The finer details of the stubble that adorned his upper lip and jawline. How the infamous scar along his thick lips acted like an eraser to any hair that wanted to grow there. The little tuft of hair that showed itself on Altaïir’s forehead. He could never comb it back

“Y/N,” Altaïr sounded more annoyed this time. You snapped you attention to him. “This is the third time i’ve called you, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, why?” You lied through your teeth. Every thought came back to Maria and what Altaïr has said about her. It made you jealous just to even think what she must look like.

“Usually you’re talking my head off,” Altaïr took out one of his throwing knives, twisting absentmindedly.

“And here I am, thinking you’d appreciate the change,” You began to prep for sleep, the fire doing so as well.

“I’m just wondering what you’re thinking about for this change to occur. Is it how I beat you at Nardshir last week?” Altaïr laid down harshly on his back, dust swirling from the weathered blanket.

“You got me,” And with that you turned away from him. Not wanting him to see the tears in the corner of your eyes. Thoughts of this Maria and how she might keep Altaïr to herself triggering something in you. A feeling. One that screamed that it wanted to care for Altaïr.

The waterworks were going full on now. A quiet sniffle told you as much. You were crying. And it was because of that stupid Syrian just on the other side of you. If Al Mualim knew about this you’d be exiled and hunted like game. And with that thought you drifted to sleep. A very exhausted sleep.  
______________________________________________________________________________

The morning was quiet for both of you. Neither needed to say a word but you knew that he heard you crying last night. You were just happy he didn’t ask about it.

The gates to Acre were nothing new to you but you still felt nervous all the same. The stench of sea salt and the tint of blue was everywhere. You followed Altaïr wordlessly. Practicing in your head what to say. Thinking about what she must look like to grab Altaïr attention.

“Surely he isn’t into busty girls.,” You thought looking down at your chest. With all the muscle you had from a life of training, there was barely any fat left to spare. The Assassins robes didn’t do justice for them either. 

Before you knew it, you were in the port of Acre, a woman with brown hair tightly done in a braided bun, thin eyebrows and calculating eyes walked up to both of you. Her brown cloak swayed behind her while her hips moved back forth, she was exaggerating. That much told you so.

“Ataïr!” Her voice was british, and overly happy. She went to go put her hand on his chest but Altaïr stepped back in precision. The turn of his lips told you he was confused at her actions.

“Maria,” He put his hand over his heart, “I want you to meet my associate, Y/N,” his voice dropped at the tone of, “associate.” He never admitted to be your friend. He just wasn’t brought up that way.

“Hello, Y/N, i’ve heard so much about you,” Her voice sounded like poison at the mention of Altaïr talking about any other person in his life.

“Likewise,” You informed in your most confident voice. Hoping it sounded convincing.

The whole day was spent in the marketplaces. Maria usually stood between the two of you, making sure you saw her advances.

When all three of you reached the stables Altaïr told you to go ahead and fetch the horses. Maria wanted to tell him something, you gathered from the way she looked at him. 

Not even a minute later and Altaïr was storming his way to the horses, barely giving you time to get on and catch up to his spurring. You looked behind at the gates of the ocean city and saw Maria looking right pissed. Running back inside Acre.

“Altaïr!” You did your best to not sound angry. “Altaïr,” No response. “Altaïr!” He finally looked at you, “What happened?”

He just looked away and slowed his horse to a walking pace. You did so in turn but just heard him mumble, “She loved me but I turned her away,” He spoke up a little bit, “When she said she heard things about you, she heard about how much I liked you. I never thought she would get jealous.”

That made your heart stop. The whole ride back to Masyaf was quiet. Even the nights. When you two got back you explained to him properly your feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is personally one of my favourites from my really early works, and my first request. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do


	5. Arno Domination (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you come home early from a mission, the first thing you want to do is be with Arno.

Arno was there in the training room. Practicing his long weapon technique with a trained skill. His blue and gold master robes twisted and twirled around him as he hit the hay dummy with the butt of the Halberd before slashing it across the chest with the crescent shaped head. Sweat flew off his rough features like raindrops. 

“Working hard or hardly working?” You sauntered from your spot in the doorway, watching him pant heavily.

He looked at you with the eyes of a killer; as intensely as the revolution itself. Softening immediately once he remembered who you were, “Mon Cheri!” He sheathed the long weapon on his back and sashayed over to you.

“Dear,” You opened your arms for a hug, happily feeling his larger body envelop you. His musk filled your senses with sweet sweat and rough gunpowder.

He pulled away only slightly, holding your lower back to him, “You weren't supposed to be back for another week. Was the mission that easy?”

While he was right, you weren't supposed to be back at the Café théâtre for another week, you just couldn’t stay away from Arno for too long, “No, I grew tired of stalking him and killed him early. All he ever did was drink until dawn and sleep.”

“Oh,” Arno whipped his head back sarcastically, “What a bore.”

“Besides,” You leant a little closer to him, “I couldn't be away from you for too long,” You placed a soft and slow kiss on his lips. Feeling only a slight recoil from surprise.

He said no words, only kissed back all the more passionately. Arno pulled you even closer to his torso. One had stayed on the small of your back and the other on moved it’s way to the back of your head. Arno then parted ever so slowly, “I think we should go to my room,” He panted out. Arno knew exactly what you both wanted and wasted no time in getting to it.

The short walk to his room was made longer with the passionate kiss from you every few seconds. But once he got to his room and closed the door you took charge. Pushing him against the wall, you felt up his barrel like chest up, feeling the toned muscles underneath all the layers of clothing. Only straying from his lips to kiss the tender and stubbly neck. His aftershave filled your senses. The sweet smell of orange and the crisp tones of rose only made you want him more.

“(Y/N), we should-,” Arno was cut off sharply as you sucked on the dip of his collarbone, leaving a big red hickey.

“What was that?” You panted out.

“We should close the balcony doors,” He huffed out, equally as aroused.

“Go sit on the bed and take off your top,” You waltzed away from him as you went to close the doors and blinds. When you turned around you saw that he complied.

“You are so sexy right now,” He whispered in your ear as you laid him down to give another kiss on his neck.

You only huffed with amusement as you lay a trail of kisses down his broad chest to his stomach where you planted the softest of kisses. You then slowly worked your way back to his mouth, stripping out of your dress shirt, practically tossing the hidden blade to the other side of the room.

Arno placed his hands on your stomach, eagerly feeling the taut muscle you had underneath a healthy layer of fat. His calloused hands strayed to under your pants to feel up your wet underwear.

You, in turn, did the same thing. Feeling his already erect penis waiting for you. With your other hand, you undid the loose belt on his pants and tugged his breeches off, halting at his boots. Feeling his penis become so erect that it laid against his stomach. Neither of you was kissing at his point, only smirking in anticipation of what was to come.

“Eager are we?” Arno teased in a strained voice.

“I haven’t been with you for two weeks, and,” You paused at the feel of his hand stroking your pussy, “I assume the same of you.” You went on your knees with Arno legs between yours and swiftly took off your boots, pants, and underwear. Took the hard erection in your hand and slid right on to it. Arno threw his head back and gave a throaty moan at your dominant actions. Your hands put themselves on his muscular stomach as his legs bent to give you support.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. You would give a panted breath here and he would give a low growl there. Only finishing when you sped up and became irregular. Your bodies no longer in sync.

“Mon Dieu,” Arno grunted as you pulled out just in time for him to cum on both of you. You two were always careful to not go anywhere towards making a family just yet.

“Now that,” You sighed as you grabbed a nearby washcloth to wipe off Arno’s cum on your stomach, “Was worth killing my target early for.”

“Can we do that for the whole week?” Arno only chuckled as he took another washcloth to wipe himself off.


	6. Second Captian (Edward Kenway x Wife!Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward entrusts another level of security to you. What could it be?

The day was a nice and hot aboard the lazy Jackdaw. Docked in the port of Nassau, all the crewmen were either spending the time ashore with rum and women or sleeping off last night's party down below. Adè was off visiting a friend which left you and Edward alone in his cabin. Edward with his shirt off and you with a tank top. It was a tropical day and Edward certainly wasn’t complaining about seeing more skin on you.

The both of you were laid down on the bed, enjoying the warm silence that had enveloped the ship. You were laying on your side, head on his chest, and lazily tracing the scars that littered his torso. He had his arm wrapped around you, stroking your hair or rubbing your exposed side. The two plain and golden rings you both wore gleamed in the sunlight that filtered through. The pair of you were very content.

“I wish we could do this more often,” You whispered, not wanting to fully break the peace, “It's a really nice change of pace.”

Edward only hummed in response before sighing. The action made his chest rise and fall at a great length. “I wanted to ask you something, lass,” The baritone of his voice rumbled in your ear.

“What is it?” You lifted your head so you could look at him in the eye. In turn, he sat up cross-legged and you followed suit in a fluid motion.

“I was wondering if,” He actively avoided eye contact, preferring to look at the flags that hung by the door.

“Edward,” You took his hand to try and soothe him but he still didn’t look at you.

He gave a great sigh before bravely asking, “Would you want to be the Jackdaw’s second captain?” This time he finally got his eyes to look at you. The colour reminded you of a tidal pool. The intensity, however, was like a burning fire.

“What do you mean, Kenway?” Your (E/C) eyes swirled with confusion while you slightly pulled away your hand from his. Would you be taking Adè’s job?

“I want you to be just as responsible for the Jackdaw as I am.” Edward grabbed your hand back, holding it with passion. You felt the smooth wedding ring rub your hand, “You’ll be able to command the men aboard her but you’ll also be able to buy things for her. And maybe a few tricks at the helm from time to time.”

“Edward, we’ve been married for a year now. Aren’t you worried about me? What if I get hurt?” You tried to pull away your hand but Edward kept a firm grip on it. Like he needed it for his own strength.

You felt Edward play with the simple gold band on your ring finger, “(Y/N), I married you because you can hold your own. I don’t need to protect you. Plus, I want you to be more involved with the crew. They like you and think you’d make a perfect captain.”

This made you give a breathy chuckle, “You asked the crew?”

“Aye,” Edward smirked at the thought, “Although they might’ve said that because I'm captain.”

“Well,” You bit your lip slightly and looked down at the blanket that was spread out across the mattress, “I am too.”

Edward gripped your waist gently with his other hand, “Really, (Y/N), you’ll do it?”

You put your other hand on his arm, “Anything for you, husband,” You looked up and saw such a childlike expression on his face. It almost seemed like he just got a new gift on Christmas.

“Thank you,” Edward pecked you on the forehead, “Thank you,” he then pecked you on the cheek, “Thank you, “ Then the nose.

“You, won’t be disappointed,” You assured him.

“You could never disappoint me, lass.”


	7. Paid in kisses (Evie x reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evie has taken your Kukri, how are you going to get it back?

Where was it? You’d only stepped out for a second. Leaving your Kukri out on the chair in Evie’s cart. When you came back it was gone. The train’s whistle only reminding you of the time you were burning. Where was it?

“Looking for this?” Evie, your wonderful girlfriend, help up the gold and silver Kukri. Shiny from just being cleaned and sharpened.

“Evie, thank you. I need that for a mission,” You were reaching out to grab it when she moved it out of arm's reach.

“You know,” She brought the Kukri closer to herself. Acting like she was inspecting it, “I think this might be better than my own.”

“Can I just have the Kukri?” You moved closer, almost reaching for it again.

Her head snapped up, “For one kiss you can,” Her lips puckered but never lost the devilish smile she held at your expression.

After a few seconds you finally sighed, “Ugh, fine.”

You gave her a quick peck on the lips, her hands on your forearms. Then put your hand out for the knife.

She happily gave it back. Smiling like a cheshire cat.

“What are you smiling at?” You looked over yourself when you saw it missing. Your hidden blade. What confused you the most was how she took it right off your wrist.

She only held it up and walked away with a chuckle, a little too proudly.

The mission could wait. For now, you owed Evie lot’s of kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a small little short but really fluffy Evie! As always, leave criticism and kudos in the comments!


	8. Attention (Frye twins x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Frye twins are attention hogs but only for you. How will you solve this?

There they were going again, fighting over some trivial thing in the next cart over. You could hear the argument loud and clear over the clicking of the rails and the shout of the steam whistle. You took another sip from your pint of beer. This time it seemed like what they should do in London. Jacob, of course, wanted to kill templars and free boroughs from the gang leaders whilst Evie wanted to find these, “Pieces of Eden,” and save London. And, yet, you just knew that they would try to drag you into this mess. As usual.

You may have been a Rook but Jacob and Evie both paid special attention to you. You had no clue why, however. All you ever did was heal wounds. The last time you went into the field you almost died from you own, and Jacobs, carelessness.

The cart door slammed open and closed as Jacob huffed his way to your booth. He started chugging down the pint that you had half-finished the second he settled down in the leather booth.

“Anything I can help you with, Mr Frye?” you dryly asked, expecting him to rant about Evie and his long dead Father.

“Come with me to the raid tonight,” Jacob blurted out, “Just you and me. We’ll free a part of Southwark,” Jacob's eyes lit up like a child pleading for sweets.

“I don’t know about that. I’m better suited for healing you two after these missions,” you folded your hands in your lap. Obviously feeling uncomfortable with going into some sort of action.

“C’mon, (Y/N)!” Jacob was practically begging you.

“The last time I went on a mission with either of you, I came back nearly half dead. I’d much rather tend to your wounds, Jacob,” You didn’t mean to spit out his name but you needed to make sure your seriousness got through. How the hell was a medic supposed to kill a person or be stealthy in any way?

“Whatever,” Jacob scoffed and hustled off the train, slamming the empty pint glass in the process.

“Glad he’s gone,” Evie suddenly took the seat across from you.

“How did you even...?” How Evie managed to be dead silent and practically invisible baffled you ever time.

“No time. I want you to help me investigate the nest piece of Eden with me,” Evie quickly got to business. Her slender hands moving about to accentuate her haste.

“Do I have to tell you what I told Jacob? I’m a medic for Lord’s sake. I can’t sneak around like you. Do you remember the last time you brought me on a mission? I almost got myself killed!” It was like talking to a brick wall sometimes with these two. And it frustrated you to no end. How many times do you have to state that you’re a medic and that's it?

Evie only gave a solemn nod of her head, “I understand.” And off she went to do her own thing.

You gave a heavy sigh and rubbed your forehead. They were lucky to have you, or else they would’ve been dead long ago.

The rest of the day passed with you bandaging up the bleeding Rook here and there. Every few minutes you’d get the time for half a pint and a thought on how Jacob and Evie were doing. Ever since you treated the two of them for gunshot wounds, they seemed to be getting hurt more and more. But before you could amuse the thought anymore, it was on to healing another Rook.

Just when you thought you were done for the day, Jacob and Evie walked in. They were slick with blood. Probably their blood if luck would serve you right. 

The cart they provided you was smaller than the others but it held your gauze and blood rags well. In one corner, there was a cot with a wooden crate. In the middle of the dimly-lit car was a slightly bigger and more used wooden crate. Most of your patients would sit here as you tended to their wounds. And finally, on the far side of it, was your stockpile of alcohol, bandages, and rags. If you needed to cut something, you just used the dagger that sat at your waist.

“Mr and Ms Frye!” You unenthusiastically called out to the two on your cart, “I wonder what brings you two here.” You sat on the old wooden crate that served as a stool.

“Treat me,” They both said at the same time. Jacob looked at Evie with a dirty look.

“Listen,” Jacob rushed, “Evie was only doing research, how badly can she be injured,” His voice started turning bitter.

“Jacob!” Evie butted in, “How can you be hurt when you were only liberating a child factory,” Evie sounded irate.

The looked like they were going to kill each other.

“Both of you!” You stood up and shouted, “I don’t know what you’re trying to gain from this but if you just wanted to spend time with me then you should’ve just asked.”

Both Jacob and Evie bowed their heads with shame when they realised that you had caught on to their game.

“Next time,” You softly put your hands on their shoulders, “Why don’t we go out for a pint, Jacob. Or, Evie, how about we go to a bookstore?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI! Oh my god it's so good to talk to you guys! First of all, I want to say thank you for supporting my fics and leaving comments. You have no clue how much it motivates me.
> 
> Next, I wanna break some amazing news! I have a new, ten-page fic, being planned and written for the summer! It follows the lives of two young adults as they live in a modern brotherhood that is split into two factions, The Trues and Realists. Together they will bring the brotherhood back together after being split for over 100 years. Although they may have different philosophies on the creed and it's tenants, they will both find that different perspectives should be seen together.
> 
> Here's a very rough excerpt:  
> When Jacob Fry overran London with his vicarious gang called the Rooks the news spread throughout most of Europe, North America, and Africa along with Asia. Assassins all around the world discussed Jacob and whether or not he was breaking the creed. It was a popular discussion amongst all ranks. Some were passionate about it but others didn’t bother themselves. But that's all it was. Discussion.
> 
> Then, the world broke out in a sudden war. Russia, Serbia, England and France were against Germany and Austro-Hungary. Of course, Germany dominated with advanced weapons and technology. The assassins had their hands full with missions from all countries. And yet there was still debate on the morality of the creed and its tenants. Most referring to Jacob Fry. But that's all it was. Debate.
> 
> That's all for now! Make sure to tell me what you think!


	9. Jacob and the First Time (NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Jacob have the train cart all to yourselves. it's been a few months into this relationship and Jacob is willing to go farther. Are you?

Henry and Evie had gone out on a date night to dinner. Leaving you and Jacob alone on the train with nothing to do. Except be incredibly bored while cuddling and listening to the rhythm of the tracks.

“Y/N?” Jacob snuggled closer to you on his couch.

“Yes?” You replied softly, laziness filling your voice, the air was quiet and peaceful.

He said nothing, only kissing you briefly. It wasn’t the first time he’d kissed you in the five months you’d been dating but it was the first time it had been so passionate. And sudden. It left you stunned and a little dazed but you just leant in for more without thinking. Unpracticed, it was a bunch of teeth clashing together and muffled breaths for air. A nice and welcome change of pace from mere moments ago.

Only after a few kisses like that did he swipe his tongue into your mouth with expert skill. And not that you were complaining about his taste being comprised of Beef, Sugar, and a trace of Beer, it was just so sudden that you gasped. Which quickly turned into a moan.

“Love,” Jacob panted out after slowly weaning himself off of you, “Are you okay with going further?”

You were catching your breath, too, and only nodded in permission.

Jacob chuckled lowly, “I need to hear you say yes, sparrow.” He was teasing you now. Enjoying what moments were to come.

You took a sigh, trying to steady your breath, “Yes. Jacob, I'm ready.”

That's all he needed as he began kissing you again, more fervently this time. Only pausing to look you in the eyes before taking the hem of your shirt and the edge of your jacket, a silent ask of consent. A nod of the head was given and he unbuttoned your jacket before he took off your shirt quickly, eager to see what lay beneath. Only to see bare skin.

“No corset? That's racy of you,” Jacob purred.

“I can’t move in those damned things.” 

Jacob only nodded with his eyes closed and started a trail of kisses from your neck to the collarbone and down to your breasts. Each one more hungry than the last. The ever growing need for you prevalent.

“Wait,” You suddenly gasped.

“What is it? Do you want to stop?” Jacob's voice had nothing but concern in it.

“I don’t have a shirt on and you still do. That hardly seems fair.”

“Is that it?” There he goes with that dark chuckle, “No problem,” He stood up and undid his tie painfully slowly. The rest of the clothes quickly followed suit, however. Jacob then leant over you, both hands on your breasts, “Better?”

The train whistled in the background, causing you to only nod.

Jacob continued on his trail, leaving nothing but soft kisses all over your chest before moving downward on your stomach. Coming down to the hem of your worn pants. Another look of permission was given by him and another nod was given by you. Leaving you in only your knickers.

“Love,” His hand caressed your hipbone, “Just say stop at any time and I will. No matter what.” He pulled off the thin knickers and bent in front of your wet and exposed womanhood. All of a sudden, he gave it a big lick and sent shivers up your spine. You bucked at him in response while he continued tracing the alphabet on you. Constantly looking up to see your reaction and hear the sounds that fell out of your mouth. Being particularly louder when the train blew its whistle.

Before you had the chance to let out your final call he stopped with a pop of the mouth and a sweep of his tongue across his lips.

“Now,” His voice had taken a dark and needy turn, “My turn to have some pleasure.”

He undid his belt, took off his boots, unstrapped the weapons on him, and took off his pants. Leaving him in a pair of long white pants. Where you could see the outline of his cock through them. He slowly took those off, too. Letting his dick spring free and breathe.

He didn’t say anything, only panting and soft whispers of your name and he hugged you to his body and slipped in his member. It went in smoothly and you could feel it inside you. Now it was your turn to pant and whisper his name.

He waited a few seconds before sloppily thrusting in and out, only his moans were audible over the soft squishing of juices. Every time he slid his cock in and out it only got faster and faster, you moving your hips to follow suit on the shaky train car. Both of you were a panting and moaning mess at this point. And it wasn’t long before he slid out his dick to stroke it a couple of times. Only to lead to the release of his seed on your stomach. Both of you out of breath.

“Wow,” You whispered as Jacob put his breeches back on. You stood up and followed suit. Flopping back down on the couch with a blanket and Jacob snuggled right up to you.

“I love you,” Jacob whispered in you ear.

“Me too,” You panted out before falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I'm happy that this is pumped out. Next, though, I think I'll stray from, what seems to be, mostly Jacob. Edward or Arno maybe? How about Altaïr? Let me know!
> 
> Here's a rough excerpt for my new summer fic, Perspectives:
> 
> "When Jacob Frye overran London with his vicarious gang called the Rooks the news spread throughout the greater part of Europe, North America, and Africa along with Asia. Assassins all around the world discussed of Frye and whether or not he was breaking the Creed and her tenants. It was a popular discussion amongst all ranks, skilled or unskilled. Some were passionate about it but others didn’t bother themselves. But that's all it was: Discussion.
> 
> Then, the world broke out in a sudden war. Russia, Serbia, England, and France were against Germany and the Austro-Hungarian empire. Of course, Germany dominated with advanced weapons and technology. The Assassins had their hands full with missions from all countries on both sides. And yet there was still debate on the morality of the Creed and its tenants. Most of it referred to Jacob Frye and his course of action. However, it only amounted to a simple debate between allies, never deteriorating to anything more vicious than a group of friends looking too far beyond the surface."


	10. The lives of innocents (Mentor! Ezio x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you finally kill for the first time it brings turmoil and doubt to your mind. Can Ezio fix it? Or are lost forever?

The warm gleam of the sun shone herself on Rome. People were in bright dresses and tunics enjoying the sun. Markets all around the giant city were filled with discussion and laughter, drowning out the usual yelling of peddlers, minstrels, and heralds. Even the guards seemed more relaxed on this perfect day.

Sadly, your mentor, Ezio Auditore, had taken it upon himself to finally teach you how to kill. He prided himself on you being his first recruit but because you were so young compared to him, he didn’t want to teach you how to kill. Not yet. He was worried that you were going to lose your innocence too soon just how he did in Firenze. But today Ezio would bring you to a Borgia tower and get you to kill the Guard Captain and do a confession.

While the walk there was short and silent, it was not awkward. You were mesmerized by how Ezio walked. The sway of his hips and shoulders demanded respect from everybody. The two of you were so close that it was easy to confuse your relationship with Ezio as romantic. But that could be further from the actual case. It was true that you two were close but where one might see romantics there was respect and equality between both of you. Even though you were his student, every time you learned something from him, he learned something from you. A symbiotic relationship of the sorts.

When you finally arrived, the sun had met its peak and illuminated every corner of every building. Your Wetland Ebony robes made her fiery warmth that much hotter on what skin was exposed. Quickly, Ezio climbed up a tall building and waited on the slanted rooftops for you. 

“Do you see the man in gold armour?” Ezio gently gripped your shoulder and pointed. His voice was silken just like how a mother would be teaching a child.

“Yes. That’s the man I should kill.”

“Not kill, pass on to the next world. I will create a distraction so you can slip in and pass him on. Are you ready?” Ezio gave you the choice to back out.

“Only because of your teachings,” you determinedly stated.

Ezio simply nodded and climbed down loudly. He drew the ire of the guards and left the captain foolishly alone. That's when you crept down with as much stealth as you could muster and slunk into the corner of his hovel. Only turning to face you when your hidden blade had punctured his side.

He was laid down at your feet while you kneeled. The body slumped in your arms, the dead weight slightly pulling you down.

“Why?” The Borgia captain murmured out; he was clearly in shock.

“Because you harm Rome and its citizens,” You declared, sounding like Ezio. His wisdom must’ve been wearing off on you.

“No!” His hand harshly gripped your arm with renewed fire, “You harm me. I have a family to feed, do you assassins never think about that?” And with that acid question he lay there, lifeless; still with his eyes open.

Before you had a chance to look anymore Ezio dragged you away from the corpse and out of sight forcefully by your other arm. The walk back to the headquarters was filled with idle conversation from Ezio. He wanted to ease the shock of your first blooding. He didn’t need you to be traumatized.

But that did nothing at night. For you tossed and turned, thinking about what the captain had sounded like before his death. You could still feel the blood on your hands and his grip on your forearm; you could still hear his words. Was he truly guilty or was he just putting bread on the table?

The next day Ezio made you work like a dog to keep your mind off of things but at supper, he finally asked. Manual labour and helping with citizens still didn’t keep your mind off of the Borgia Captain and his family.

It was finally when you two ate dinner in his study that he decided to ask if you were fine with a meagre meal of grapes, wine, and soup.

“I noticed that you’ve been quiet as of late. Are you fine?” Ezio popped a grape in his mouth.

“I’m fine,” You mumbled. How would Ezio know? He’s killed so many people he probably forgets how bad it really is. You only rolled the soup spoon around in the small bowl, indicating that you were not fine but troubled and weighted in the mind.

“You haven’t even touched your soup. Are you sure you’re okay?” Ezio took a long sip of wine with an irritating slurping sound.

“I said I'm fine,” Your voice was now bitter and hostile, oh how you wished how he could just drop it.

“You’re not fine,” Ezio demanded that you told him right here and now. His fists gently pounding the small desk to accentuate his words.

“You know what's wrong? I’ve been thinking about my first blood and why we, I,” You corrected yourself, “had to kill the Borgia guard! He was just trying to put some food on the table for his family! He was innocent!” At this point, you had stood up and pushed your chair back. Ezio looked up at you with shock, not truly knowing what to say.

“(Y/N), I know what you’re going through,” Ezio’s voice was sickeningly calm as he used his hands to accentuate himself.

“How can you? You kill like there's no tomorrow without any remorse! How the hell can you know what I'm going through?” You started to walk away. Not truly caring for what Ezio had to say.

Later that night, Ezio came by your room, which you had hibernated in, to check up on you. And for good reason; you’d never exploded at him like that in the two years you’d known him.

“Get out, Ezio,” you snapped when you saw him in your doorway. The dim candlelight hid his face well. All that was prevalent was his downturned lips and stubbled jaw

He just ignored you and sat down gently beside you on the bed in the middle of your room. It creaked and shifted slightly under his weight. “When I was a young boy, about your age,” Ezio’s voice was sentimental, “my father and brothers were hanged for a crime they did not commit. After their hanging, I un-formally joined the Brotherhood and killed with no thought on how that would affect my mind.”

“Ezio,” your voice was now soft and full of guilt, “I didn’t know. I-i’m so sorry.”

“No, you did not. I didn’t expect you to know. And I understand what you’re feeling so I can’t be mad at you,” Ezio placed a hand on your shoulder and looked into your eyes deeply, “But next time let’s talk about it.”

You just placed your head on his shoulder and sighed. It was about to be a very long and emotional night. Another barrier between you two would be broken, however.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you all for reading my works! Just a reminder that my summer fic, Perspectives, will be coming out next month! I hope you guys are just as excited as I am!


	11. Language Lessons (Ezio x Reader NSFW)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Ezio and you get some alone time you decide it'd be great if he taught you Italian

While Ezio had been your mentor for the past two years, the two of you were practically inseparable. Wherever he went you went. He absolutely treasured you and wanted to make sure that you got the most out of every mission he went throughout Rome. Even if that meant that he talked to some pretty courtesan while you did all the hard work.

It was just after a long day of training with the hidden blade that you both went to his room to take a bath. Sure, both of you had seen each other naked before, and the bath was well and big for both of you, but that didn’t change the mood when you both sat there and waited for the hot water to boil.

“Ezio,” You piped up, “I was wondering if you could teach me some Italian. It mIght help with my training.” You had picked up bits and pieces here and there but you never were fluent in the romantic language.

Ezio eyed you, confusion crossing his face before he relaxed at the opportunity. “Of course,” Ezio breathed out as he dumped the now boiling water into the large tub, making steam clouds waft out. “This here,” He placed a gentle hand on your head, _“Is La Testa.”_

You tried to repeat the word but couldn’t get the same gentle meaning in your voice. The elegant pronunciation just wouldn’t form right on your foreign lips.

Ezio chuckled and moved on, placing a soft hand on your cheek, _”La Guancia,”_ He almost whispered.

 _“La Guancia,”_ You parroted back. His soft hand engulfed your cheek, spreading the warmth throughout you like it usually did when he gave you a friendly touch. But this was different, somehow. Almost as if the tone had changed completely.

He slowly moved his thumb to your lips, tapping them for a brief second, _“Le Labbra.”_

You could only whisper back the words now. The atmosphere changing completely.

Ezio then slid off the shoulder of your tunic, the various straps getting in the way and bunching up the clothing. _“Le Spalle.”_ He then unstrapped your shoulder guard and the large belt on your hips, resting his hands there. _“L’ancia.”_ He then removed your whole tunic, leaving you in only your undershirt, pants, and boots. His palm rested on your stomach, the warmth radiating throughout you. _“L'ancia,”_ It was only a rough whisper that passed through his lips.

You tried to repeat his words but only found yourself breathing heavily from his touch. While it wasn’t sexual it had a gentle meaning that would lead to further purpose.

Ezio then moved to your boots, prying off the guards and boot in one swift motion before he tugged at the waistline of your pants. Leaving you only in your undergarments. _“La Gamba,”_ he mumbled out whilst caressing your thigh before he peeled the shirt off of you, leaving your top naked and exposed. He only sighed when he saw your open torso, scanning every inch of your battle scarred skin. “Look at you, beautiful as ever.”  
“Mentor,” You only breathed out. His lips finally planting on yours. Filled with passion and grace. He was experienced, you would give him that, but he was so worried about crossing a line. Only doing an action after you had done it yourself.

He took total control of your inexperienced actions. The stubble on his lip scratched at your upper lip. His kiss was nothing short of cautious and passionate. But when you two parted for air, he was panting more than you. One look into his golden eyes and you could see that they were filled with anticipation. A golden cloud of worry loomed into them. He knew that tonight would be crossing a line, and if he wasn’t careful, it would break all trust between you two.

This would be one lesson you wouldn’t forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think this really needs any translation. At least i'm on time with this one! It's a short one and my writing style for these scenes can get a little awkward tbh but if you have any ideas let me know because i've run out! Also, don't forget that Perspectives is coming out in only a few weeks on June 1st! I'm hoping for a bi-weekly update but let's see how life rolls, yeah? <3


	12. Swinging kisses (Jacob x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob and you are playing a little game of hide and seek. Who will win?

His steps were light and airy. Not at all what one would expect from the muscular man below you. “Come on out my little Rookie!” Jacob silently walked around the abandoned warehouse.

This morning, you two decided a day of fun was in order, and who could complain about a little game of hiding and seek? At least you could tell Evie you spent the day training. The place was dark and cold. Long evicted of people after Jacob liberated it. The machines had long since been shut off and now it was riddled with rats, bugs, and soggy wood. The air smelled like the rest of London, musky and thick with coal.

You giggled as you walked along the porous wooden rafters. He somehow didn’t know you were there until it creaked slightly from your weight. The noise, although slim, would surely catch Jacob’s attention. You needed to think of something. Fast. That is if you wanted to win this two-hour long game. Until you felt around your pockets to find a lonesome stone in it. Both of your smoke bombs were gone and you didn’t bother to stock up before the two of you left the train late in the morning.

Jacob noticed this and started walking slowly to where he could climb. His gentle laugh filling the vast and empty space, reverberating off of the walls in a golden hue. “I know where you are, Love. Might as well show yourself.” It was almost as if he was teasing you. His voice was as smug as his walk. But you still had a trick up your sleeve.

You tossed the pebble from your pocket in and underhand motion. The little noise it made was just enough to make his head and body turn as he tried to see what it was that made a thunk somewhere off in the distance. Your smirk was stretched across your face, feeling far too clever for your own good.

“Where is...” Jacob trailed off, his eye narrowing with focus. Not caring about the little noise you made from hanging by your hands. Right behind him. Your nose was just inches from the back of his head. His scent filled your nostrils. Jacob always smelled like coal and steel. Something that reminded you of the colour grey. Speaking of which, now that you looked closer, he was also getting some grey hairs among his brown head.

Jacob turned around abruptly, surprised until your lips found their way onto his. He kissed back and tried to dominate you. Jacob made you sway a little bit backwards as you still were only hanging down by your arms. In order to steady you, he gently grabbed your face. Making the kiss only deeper and more passionate. But, alas, you two finally had to catch your breath.

“Found you,” He whispered. The egotistical smirk he wore did things to you. It was infectious as one spread across your features.

“Sure you did,” You playfully added. Going in for another kiss. This time, however, he held you as you dropped into his arms. His leather jacket caressing you as he lovingly kissed you.


	13. Talk with Malik (Altaïr x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malik has a grudge against Altaïr. Will you be able to provide some insight into the truth of his actions?

The sheltered office of the Bureau felt like winter on your cooling skin compared to the intense heat of the sunlit parlor. The sun being exceptionally hot and bright today. You and Malik sat in the same dark room, waiting for Altaïr to get back from scouting for information. A cup of water was held idly in your hands as you sat on a worn out wooden chair in a dry corner of the room, taking the occasional sip of the chill water, while Malik was charting out another map of the city with heavy and dark ink. It almost seemed to be an occasional pastime of his.

Malik moved slightly, the fabric of his robes making the slightest sound almost as if he was stretching from his hunched position over the detailed map. "Y/N," His sharp voice cut the comfortable silence that had fallen on the two of you.

"Yes?" Your voice sounded much more melodic and patient compared to his.

"I hope I am not being rude, but, I must ask you something," He was cautious, taking almost a submissive stance behind his counter.

"What is it?" The small cup was now placed on the ground.

"Why are you close with Altaïr? All he is-" Malik's eyes squinted and his voice boarded on hostility while his hands struggled to find the words.

"Is arrogant, proud, and stupid. Right?" You didn't give Malik the time to answer, your voice mocking what others had said to you beforehand, "Why should I be with him when other men will treat me right? Because," You lazily got up and walked slowly over towards Malik, "Those men would boast about how they got away from punishment while Altaïr regrets his actions." You patiently expressed, " Everything that he does for the creed is to make up for his atrocities in the eyes of others."

Now you and Malik were at a respectful distance from each other. His eyes were no longer filled with bitterness but opened up with perspective. Your hands were gently placed on the dusty counter, the missing ring finger ever prevalent as loose dirt swirled around from the gentle movement.

"I had not thought about it that way before," Malik mused, his brow now furrowed and his arm resting on the workspace between you two.

"Just talk to him and you'll see. Trust me." You placed a gentle hand on Malik's forearm. The sound of feet hitting the parlor beckoning you to Altaïr.

The short trip to the sunlit den left Malik in a small state of wonder in the shaded room while you headed to the bright parlor; the shining sun blinding you for a second.

Altaïr made a few short and powerful strides once he saw you. Drawing a quick peck on your lips and a rare smile from him. "Go talk to Malik. Please?" Your hands were on his chest and you were lovingly gazing into his eyes, a content smile on your lips.

"If you wish it," He sighed. All the bitterness in his voice melted once Altaïr looked into your eyes.

With that he slowly and meekly walked into the parlor. Malik's name on Altaïr's lips. Knowing you did your part you sat down softly amongst the collection of pillows in the hot lobby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, finally updating! I'm out of school for the summer (only one exam to go!) So expect some longer, and hopefully better, one shots!


	14. White Angels (Ezio x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've been condemned to hang. With your last words on your mind, you spot what just might be your saviour.

Rope burned and bit into your wrists as the anticipation of death hung around as if it was a pack of hungry wolves. The shouts of people only resounded in your head as the deadly wolf pack howls. People who you had so desperately tried to protect had condemned you to be hung. It’s not like you could blame them, however; they didn;t know why you had killed the head guard captain.

The rickety wooden boards of the stand barely held your weight. It was funny; with all your weapons and armour you were as silent as the night but with only a pair of trousers and a baggy shirt you were as loud as ever. Your thoughts, however, weren't as simple as your clothing. All of the morals that you had been taught by the Brotherhood, by your Husband, Ezio, had been picked away and rotted in that small cell for three days. The intricate steel band only reminded you of your tie to the Assassins. 

The tall hooded man beside you cried out your atrocities for all of Rome to hear. Thief, brigand, assassin. All of them true. But was it really a crime if the intentions were pure and just?

Looking into the crowd with a brave and strong face you saw three white hoods just on the edge of your vision. “How morbid,” You thought, “They’re here to unite me afterwards.” That's when your feet let loose your weight and the rope around your neck took it instead. The air rushed out of your lungs and black spots darted across your vision.

Suddenly, you were on your ass on the hard ground. The air flooding your lungs with quick gasps and shallow coughs. Never before had the earth felt like such a blessing. Two warm and large hands pulled you into an equally as heated chest that smelled of roses and fresh linen. 

“Please,” Ezio’s harsh whisper pleaded in your ear, “Never put that look on your pretty face.” His voice started to crack as tears fell on your slumped shoulders. Just hearing Ezio being that broken made you shed your own beneath the executioner's stand while the fighting raged on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally back from camping and ready to start the summer after my last exam for grade 11! I hope you all enjoy this short Ezio fic. While you're at it, why don't you check out and review my other story, Perspectives?
> 
> Bye for now <3~


	15. Flirting with death (Altaïr x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have to use your womanly body in order to get close to a target. Unbeknownst to you, it makes Altaïr quite jealous.

Curse this awful mission. Curse these awful clothes. If it wasn’t for the fact that this pig of a man could be desperately charmed by anything with womanly hair and a pair of tits you would’ve slit his throat him long ago. But, alas, this was the most discreet, and somehow necessary, way. Malik sent you out on this mission knowing full well that you’d hate it but also knowing that you were the only one that could pull it off in such way. When you’re supposedly the only female of the brotherhood, you get a job like this, apparently.

The thin and soft red fabric barely covered your pale legs and arms. The assassin robes you wore keep your skin from tanning in the harsh sunlight. Your torso was clothed with a heavier fabric and adorned with fancy jewels that sparkled a listless red under the festive torchlight. As you walked, men would throw pretty coins at you, try to grab your swaying body, or ask you how much you cost. It didn’t matter because you were being escorted by a guard to the host’s, your target’s, room to be used like a cheap toy. You wouldn’t let him get that far.

When you entered the dark and musty room you immediately felt a pair of overly large and worn hands on your chest. His mouth was on your neck in an instant. Your leg was raised up to meet his burly hips.

“Stay calm, just pretend it's Altaïr,” You slowly thought as his assault on your neck led to your chest.

The target finally laid you down on the bed rather harshly on your back the soft sheets doing nothing to quell your nerves.You skillfully flipped him over when he straddled you, him thinking that you were taking charge, before you pulled out a dagger hidden on your hips, and slit his neck in a quick and efficient manner. His choked out words were nothing more than a lazy repentance for his crimes against the city of Jerusalem.

The way out of the party was through the window and by the dark and gritty rooftops. The sandstone pounded roughly against your sandaled feet as you hauled ass to the safe house before you were discovered.

When you finally jumped into the plush entrance of the bureau, Altaïr was on you for a second, trying to put your regular robes and weapons on.

“Altaïr, what are you doing?” You asked as he tried to put on your pants in one swift mission.

“You have no clue how those men were looking at you. You have no clue what that does to me. Do you have any idea how hard it was to stay here?” His voice was a low growl as he tried to explain his rushed and rough actions.

Maybe you should do missions like this more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, okay, so sorry for not posting on time! The summer has left me high and dry for all motivation. Anyway, I know that y'all will like this one!


	16. Home sweet home (Arno Dorian x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arno comes home from a week long mission in Versailles. It's up to you to help him relax.

Arno had been gone for one week to scout out a Templar agent in the rich city of Versailles. When he left his master robes were crisp, clean, and freshly pressed by yours truly. Arno was enthusiastic to get out of Paris now that the Reign of Terror was over and the revolution was on its last legs. People were going crazy over Napoleon and how he would lead the country to a bigger and better future.

And what a long and arduous week it was. Business at the Cafe was good and normal but the workload for you was doubled now that your other half, and the manager of the place, was gone. It wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle, but it did make the days a little harsher and longer. However, there was no doubt in your mind that Arno was starving for some time with you. The weather would constantly switch from hot and sunny to a cold and torrential downpour in Paris and you hoped that wasn’t the case in Versailles. During your short breaks throughout the days, you would plan a little surprise for Arno to relax and calm down after some harsh field work. Nothing sexual, as it only stressed him out to please you, just something for him to release all his stress and take off his duties as a master assassin.

On Friday, Arno came home at around suppertime, just as planned. His clothes were muddy and smelled like a campfire when he enveloped you in a weary hug. It seems the weather was just a worse in Versailles as it was in Paris. No doubt the trek that he did all across the grand city wore him out. Hay and horse hair was spotted all across his back and pants. Maybe when he wasn’t so tired, you would ask him for a story. But now he had to get some proper food in him. Nobody could turn out meat stew and bread with butter. Arno wolfed down his meal like a ravenous wolf, barely taking the time to sit down, while you only made idle conversation to keep him from choking.

After he finished up most of the pot you grabbed his gloved hand and lead him to the shared bedroom upstairs above the Cafe. His voice was weak when asking what you were doing before you shushed him and opened up the door to reveal a hot bath lit by candles and fresh towels on the chair beside the steel tub. You refused to join him as he peeled off his dark clothing and slipped into the hot water. His low groans were the only sounds that came from him as you helped wash him off a bit. The bath is a welcome treat after a week of who knows what. 

You handed him a towel after the water had grown cold and filthy. The lush fabric feeling like heaven on his aching muscles. Finally, Arno changed into a loose shirt and pants and slipped into the bed after you had gotten changed into your night apparel. He fell asleep in seconds while holding you close to him only to smell his distinct scent of copper, wood, and something that was simply Arno. This was definitely the best recovery he’s ever had from a mission all thanks to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wowow, what a week for me! I've decided to take control of my life and become a functioning young adult. So while I'm still going to write, expect my Tumblr, both rooks-and-blighters and assassin-tales, to be shut down in the coming weeks as the start of this process.
> 
> Basically, whats up is the website is so toxic for my mindset in the world, so don't think it's hateful anons (they wish!). It's taken up so much of my time only to be unfulfilled by anything on there. It's time for me to think for myself and cleanse myself of the toxic mindsets on there in order to improve my life.
> 
> With that out of the way, I hope you all enjoy this little drabble! I decided to experiment with a perspective change. It's a little clunky and definitely not my usual style but, practice makes perfect!


	17. Bad Past (Jacob X Reader) !!Abuse Warning!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You've had a bad past with men due to your father. Then, Jacob comes by and shows you that not everyone is bad.

It’s not like you always hated men. No. It’s more like you had a father that didn’t care. He would try to marry you off for money and then yell at you when you had attack your groom twice your age. 

And that’s why you were here. In a pub surrounded by yellow and green coats. The Rooks, just another gang taking up london. And as much as you’d hate to be in a crowded place, it was the only place your father wouldn't check. So you stomached the feeling when somebody walked towards you. It seemed like they were all looking to have fun and not hit on you. Thank god.

“‘Scuse me, Love,” A gentle accent crept up behind you.

You just stayed still and pretended to not notice.

“Love, if you don’t mind, could you pass me my hat?”

You glanced at the counter top. Your eyes fixated on the warm ale in front of you. There was a black top hat with red ribbon just a bit away.

“Yes, of course.” You sighed out. Happy he wasn’t asking for anything else.

When you gave him his top hat, something seemed off about the man. Maybe it was because his clothes were so different than the people around you. Or maybe it was the way he looked at you. You saw determination in his eyes and a fighting spirit in his stance.

“Thank you.” His rich accent flowed out when he took the hat from your shaky hands. Not sounding sarcastic at all.

Then, just like that, somebody in a red coat, turned him around and got a clean punch to the face. If you weren’t there, he would’ve fallen right into the seat you were sitting in. Instead, he put his arms out to stabilize himself and swung a punch. Knocking the man out cold.

Hoots and hollers surrounded you. Reminding you of when your father yelled at you. All of your instincts kicked in when you saw more red coats and the yelling grew louder. Effectively making you seem as small as possible. Head down, arms in, ankles crossed and unmoving. Flinching at every sound that was made.

The fight was over after what seemed like forever. The kind man from before tapping your shoulder, only whispering as to not startle you, “Are you okay?”

You simply nodded and held back what tears threatened to spill out. Not quite trusting your voice, you only got up and walked out the door. Heading for what building was called home. The man living inside could barely be called such.

______________________________________________________________________________

A couple days passed since the incident and you were taking your daily morning walk around Whitechapel. As every woman did for exercise these days. That's when you saw him. Top Hat, red and black coat, and an arsenal of weapons. You stopped dead in your tracks just remembering the night.

He saw you immediately. Stopping his chat with a Rook and sauntering over to you, “Fancy seeing you again, Love. Fancy a drink?”

“This early in the morning?” Your tone was uneasy. Unsure of his intentions.

He must’ve picked it up, voice becoming instantly softer, “I just want to know you and chat, surely a woman like yourself would like that.”

“That does sound nice Mr.” You trailed off, not knowing his name.

“Frye,” He was quick to respond but added on, “You can call me Jacob, however.”

“Well, Jacob, I would love to but I must be going home to my Father,” You instantly spun around and walked towards “Home”.

“Some other time, then?” Jacob shouted out but you didn’t respond.

The thought of how your Father would react if he saw you talking to somebody plagued your mind. He would be furious. Never letting you talk to anybody on the street. Heaven forbid if they gave you ideas of freedom.

The whole week you saw him and turned down his offer again and again. He opted to just chat you up for fifteen minutes or so until you remembered your father and his reaction if he found out. You found out that he had a sister, Evie, liked his pubs and was part of the Rooks.

One day, you were walking with your father at the same time in the morning. He grew suspicious when you came back later and later each day.

“Y/N!” Jacob called out to you, jogging over to where you were stopped, “How do you do?”

Your father only barred and arm across from you and spat harshly at Jacob, “Leave my daughter alone, vagrant.”

Jacob stammered in his step, a look of confusion on his face, “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Her father. Stop these daily talks to my daughter.” The way he had said Daughter made you flinch. A pained look found itself on your face.

“She is a free woman, is she not?” Jacob’s tone was becoming hostile. Almost as if he was ready for a fight.

“Leave. Her. Alone.”

The hurt look on your face and your father's tone set him off. Throwing a clean punch to this nose.

Your father only held his nose and tried to throw one back. Failing miserably.

Jacob simply dodged the weak attempt and threw another for his cheek. Sending him on the pavement. Blood on the cart trails. Motionless.

“Love, are you okay?” He went to hug you but you only stood there petrified. You were free.

“Don’t touch me! You monster!” You yelled suddenly, pushing him roughly back.

Jacob only backed up and tossed you a green checkered coat. A worried expression lined his stubble.

“Join the rooks. If you want. Come to Whitechapel station.” And with that he left. An air of hurt around him.

You only looked at the coat in your arms. The only thing to do was join the Rooks. And go for a drink with Jacob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, okay, the writing bug has melted with this heat. Hopefully, I can do a bit more in September. I promise that Perspectives will be updated next month, I'm just a little stuck.
> 
> Have fun reading ~<3


	18. Class introductions (Modern! Jacob X Reader(

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You spot a good looking British dude in your class. Without the help of your best friend, you just might not talk to him.

“Just go for it. What do you have to lose?” Élise nudged you on the arm. Ever since you told her about this guy, from your ten am lecture, all she’s been doing is encouraging you. 

Truth be told, he did make every other morning bearable. But soon, you started to think about him and you in a relationship. From what you could tell, he was energetic and had quite a few friends. He always gave at least one sassy remark to the teacher and got away with it.

But you were shy. You always told yourself that you’d sit closer to him or maybe even say hello. That never happened. Right when you were about to talk to him or move just one chair closer, his friends would always come in and shatter what confidence you had built up.

So of course you told your roommate, Élise, the language major, about him. She told you his name and what he was majoring in. Jacob and auto mechanics. Certainly not what you would do, but it suited his rugged and friendly appearance.

“Hello? You okay, Love?” His voice was gentle and kind. Not a trace of the usual sarcasm was in it.

“Uh.. Y-yeah. I just wanted to ask you a question,” You pulled yourself out of a daze and hesitated, “Which is,” He had an expectant look on his face, “Do you have the notes from yesterday? I wasn’t paying attention,” Good excuse.

“Uh, yeah,” He dug around in his bag, “Ten am psychology?” He held out a note sheet that had scribbles on it.

“Thank you,” You took the worn page, almost brushing fingers.

“Oh, I, um-” Jacob tried to reach for the sheet but decided to turn sharply and walk away. Not even saying goodbye.

Élise waited around for a couple second behind you. You could basically feel the excitement radiating off of her.

“Oh. Mon. Deiu. Did you see the way he just turned around? And the blush under his stubble-beard?” She was shaking your shoulders. Somehow holding the note sheet Jacob had given you.

“Give me that back, Élise,” You reached out for it but she only stood still, eyes wide.

“Look at these notes!” She practically squealed.

You didn’t say anything. Only grabbing the heavily written on sheet. Reading it until the notes Jacob had taken caught your eyes.

“Pretty girl that sits almost beside me. Name = ?. Nice H/C hair.” And a picture in the corner of your E/C eyes. Coloured in with, crayon, it seemed.

“You have to give this back!” 

“Ah, no. He doesn’t even know my name.” You deadpanned.

“That’s why you say, ‘My name is Y/N. Do you wanna go for coffee?’” She put on her best sweetie-bell voice.

“Ugh, fine. If it gets you to stop this, thing,” You gestured to all of her with your hand.

______________________________________________________________________________

The day went by quickly and before you knew it, you were waiting outside your 7 am psychology class waiting for the man in the top hat with brown eyes that shone like honey.

You saw him walking down the hallway. Looking pretty sheepish and avoiding eye contact.

“Um, excuse me, mister, Frye!” He looked at you then walked over, with quite a bit of mock-confidence.

“What can I do for you?” His voice was still groggy and deep from sleep. 

You paused at the sound of his voice; How it sounded like rich coffee. “I wanted to give you back your note sheet.”

He took it and peered at you only for the blush to come back to his cheeks.

“Do you, maybe, want to go for coffee?” You muttered.

“I’d love nothing more. Call me Jacob.”

“I’m (Y/N) can I sit next to you?”

He only nodded and prompted you to follow him. The two of you talking the whole class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow. Okay, so, it's been a long while since I posted and I want to apologize. Writing completely slipped my mind but I should be up to par now. 
> 
> School is starting soon and because of that I'm not sure how often I'll update. Of course I'll shoot for once a week but I have no clue how grade 12 is gonna be. So please bear with me!
> 
> On another note, I finally abandoned my Tumblr, rooks-and-blighters. I didn't delete it because I wanted it to stand as a relic. So feel free to check it out! It'll be there for a while!
> 
> With that, I hope you all enjoy the next fic, like always! ~<3


	19. Hugs and safety (Desmond X Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What usually happens when Desmond wakes up from the Animus.

Desmond would twitch and grunt ever so often whenever he was in the Animus. Sometimes, he would desynchronize and flail like what some people do just before they fall asleep. It worried and shocked you every time it happened. Your heart would jump into your throat while your stomach would almost burst out of your skin. Rebecca would pull him out for a break, much to Shaun's distaste. Lucy would shut him up before he could say anything, however.

Whenever Desmond would leave the Animus, he would instantly be captured in a hug by you. And Desmond would always grip back despairingly. You were the one thing that kept him grounded after all.

This time was no different. His white plush hoodie felt like the softest cloud in the world. The sweetness of alcohol and sweat competed with woody undertones as you breathed in his scent desperately.

A sigh escaped your lips before you spoke into your hoodie. “I'm happy you're here. I missed you.”

Desmond only breathed in your own fragrance before his stubble scratched your cheek and his lips left an open mouthed kiss to the crook of your neck. 

“I missed you, too,” he whispered.

And for just a bit everything was safe and peaceful in the world.

“Get a room, you two,” Shaun's sharp accent blurted out.

Well, almost everything was peaceful. Shaun could use some work, however.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed the Desmond fluff! Next weekend I'm planning for some Altaïr so be on the lookout for that!


	20. Sunsets and Confessions (Altaïr x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Altaïr has something important to tell you. What could it be?

You were just about to turn in from a long day of training. The heavy robes weighed down by weapons were begging to be taken off of your sweaty skin. Fine dirt and perspiration had been built up from the whole week as a result of training novices how to fight. Granted, it was much harder than it looked. Your once white fabric was now a light shade of beige from letting the lower ranks feel what it was like to take down someone.

Your sore and calloused hands reached up to your chest in order to be rid of the contraption that kept the silver short sword at your back. The day was finally getting on you as you reveled for a break tomorrow.

It was just then that three short but strong knocks tore you out of your thoughts. Your left hand instinctively drawing the hidden blade. It took a few seconds but eventually you calmed down and realized that this is your home and nobody in their right mind would attack you here. 

“Who is it?” You sighed after standing down from the sudden noise.

“Altaïr. May I come in?” The male's voice resounded through the wood. His tone was almost as tiring as yours. While he didn't train novices, he ran missions for the brotherhood, and that was just as important as your job as far as you both were concerned.

“Of course. Come in,” you were relieved it was him. You and Altaïr had been friends for about three years now. A mutual respect had formed between you two when you beat his ass into the ground with nothing but a throwing knife and he had won in an impromptu horse race while running from guards in the kingdom. Ever since then you and Altaïr had been inseparable comrades on and off the battlefield.

The dark wooden door creaked open on its hinges as Altaïr pushed it gently. The bright sun cast a hard shadow against his hooded face making his features even more defined. 

“I need you to follow me,” came the gruff statement before he just turned around and left.

If you hadn't known him better you would take it as rude, but because you did know Altaïr, he wanted to share something with you.

And as such, you followed him wordlessly as he walked powerfully to the highest tower where the leaps of faith were practiced. It was there that the setting sun stunned you. Bright orange hues competed with the mountaintops for space in the vast and endless sky.

“What did you bring me here for?” You gently inquired after getting swept up by the unreal scenery.

“I need you to keep a secret from Al Mualim. Can you do this?” Altair took off his hood; something he only ever did when alone with you.

You turned to face him to find his face riddled with worry like a plague. “Of course, anything for you, Altaïr.”

“I want to be devoted to you,” Altaïr blurted out.

You were taken back at the bold statement. Altaïr saying this meant that he was willing to face being kicked out of the brotherhood and hunted like game if Al Mualim found out. Just by saying he wanted to be yours meant that Altaïr would die for you. Nothing but the utmost seriousness gripped his features like cold iron. 

In your years that you had known him he always came to you when he was unsure of something or if he just wanted to have someone to talk to. You, in turn, had done the same when your emotions had overflowed and you needed a shoulder to cry on or a training dummy to hit. Sure, you couldn't deny the feeling you had felt for the man, but you were also content with being his friend if it meant that you could just be there for him; to see him happy was enough for you. 

“I do, too. Even if I get shunned and hunted for it. I want to be loyal to you,” you had barreled his torso in a strong hug at the bold confession as his powerful arms held you close. For Altaïr, you'd do anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! Another week, another fic! I'm super happy with this one, but, as always, tell me if there's any way I can improve!
> 
> Also, I'm going into the fanart game so if y'all wanna watch my deviant art at bobo12345678910 (I know it's long) I'd appreciate it! 


	21. Tragedy (Jacob X Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything was fine today, until the unplanned happened

He could hear everything. But dare not open his eyes

Jacob Frye started the day like any other. A cold step out of his couch when the dawn hit his eyes. You had left already. You always do. Leaving Jacob by his lonesome with the open and cold windows of the train. Evie always complained about the pollutants in the air, not like outside was any better.

Jacob would then boil some water in a kettle, get a rag, and a bowl so he could wash himself. Section by section he would clean his body. Wet the rag, wring it, scrub and arm or leg, and repeat until it was clean. Then, move on to the next part. Only the rich could afford showers, plus, how would you fit a shower on a train?

Next he would get dressed. Always taking his time. Always waiting for you to get back from your morning exercise or from helping Evie. Always coming in just at the last buckle. Always giving him a good morning kiss. Always telling him the plans for the dat. Never faltering in this routine.

Today, you were going to liberate a child factory with him and maybe go for a beer. It was supposed to be easy. In and out. Nothing was supposed to explode. Nothing was supposed to go wrong.

But life never has a plan.

The two of you got there in time, with a few Rooks. Jacob decided that he should split up. That's when it went south. That's when he heard a gunshot. That's when he heard you calling his name. That's when he held you hand and got blasted to his back. That's where he was now.

Every breath felt like it's own explosion of heat and pain. His skin was burned and he could feel your hand or body nowhere near him. He dared to not open his eyes. For if he looked, he would see nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, okay. I had to dig up something super old for this week. Next time I update I should have something new, but we'll see.
> 
> (I did a lot of research for this one to make it as historically accurate as I could. I'm sure there might be something wrong so if you know, let me know!)
> 
> See you next time~


	22. Rope (Connor x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You work in a small tea shop. One day, a stranger comes in and asks for rope.

You worked in a small supply shop in Boston. It wasn’t the prettiest thing, the white paint was peeling off of the wood, and the sign was worn in, but it had your father's name on it so you had to work there, selling teas and such to whatever travellers came into the small shop. 

The afternoon brought about laziness to everyone. Her slow heat was perfect for a nap, and you had to be one of the only people working through this. If father found out you slept just a bit, you would get quite the lecture. However, your light fabric of your dress and loose square-necked bodice did nothing to help with the blistering heat.

The bell rang lazily and brought you out of your sleepy trance. Looking up from the wooden counter, you saw a tall man with dark skin, a blue overcoat, dark hair, and a shy expression come up to you. His soft face looked like it belonged to someone else, considering his muscular physique. 

“Can I help you today?” You asked in a slow voice, lazily straightening up from your hunched position.

“I need some rope, do you have any?” His voice had a small accent to it, he obviously didn’t grow up speaking English, but it was still quite good.The stranger looked around the store, only to see large boxes filled with planks of tea.

Rope. Rope. You tapped your chin in thought. Now that you think, you might have some in the large back. It’s been a while since anyone asked you of all people for rope, although.

“Let me check,” you disappeared behind the shop, only to find a small bundle of the light brown fibre sitting behind a crate of tea. It had obviously seen better days. Figuring it’d have to do, you picked it up and went back up to the front and handed it to him gently, “Here you go, sir.”

As he grabbed the frayed bundle, his rough hands brushed against yours, “Thank you,” he mumbled as he put two Spanish dollars down gently on the dark counter, nodding slowly.

As he turned to leave the small expanse, you called out to him in a desperate tone, “If you come back in a few days, I might have more!” That was a lie, you run a tea shop, you wouldn’t have any rope, but you just wanted to see this kind man again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wowowow, okayyy. I know it's been a while since I've updated but I've been working on my writing techniques. Nothing too noticeable, I hope, but just something to be okay with writing shit for the first draft. I've noticed a lack of Connor on here (Only one work!) and I know that isn't fair to you guys so I'll do my best to have a fair number of whoever I choose to write!


	23. Keep your eyes on me (Desmond x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ending of a mission is hectic but sweet, and maybe a little stinky.

Bullets whizzed overhead as you two ran throughout the large and dim corporate building.

“I don’t know what you two are doing, but get the hell out of there!” Shaun yelled in your earpiece.

“In the process,” You grunted back while turning a corner and going down a steep flight of stairs.

“I think the exit is here,” Desmond mumbled as he pulled you into a fire escape on the outside of the 2nd floor.

“We have to jump,” You said quickly as the guard's shout became louder.

“Look,” Desmond quickly put your face into his hands, “Keep your eyes on me, we’ll be okay. I’m going to jump and take you with me.”

Only managing a small nod Desmond quickly leapt off the ledge with your body wrapped in his before you had the chance to protest. The dumpster hit Desmond quicker than expected and winded him with a woosh but he still held you in a protective ball.

“Are you okay?” He breathily asked after a minute of cooling down.

“Yeah, you good? I think we lost them.”

“I’m okay. Let’s get back before Shaun complains about a smell again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know this is a super small one but I've been working on Perspectives lately and I really can't wait to update it again at the end of this month! For NaNoWriMo, I'll be pushing through those chapters to at least get something down, and working on drabbles for this (and maybe Mystic Messenger) so I hope I can get 50,000 words for my first NaNoWriMo!!
> 
> So please make sure you stay on the lookout for the next fics. I'll be writing but posting in intervals!
> 
> Bye~


	24. Silent snow (Shay Cormac X reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Shay help prepare the Morrigan for the winter (fluff without plot)

Inside, the snow looked beautiful and peaceful. Like something from a fantasy world; One filled with magic and mystical beings. It didn't look nearly as cold as it was. Not with Shay's warm and heavy body draped against you as you looked out the window and sipped your hot drink. Both of you were dressed in winter clothing. Shay in his Templar uniform and you in the outfit he gave you when you moved to Fort Arsenal to live with him. A simple black form fitting wool coat, a dark blue turtleneck sweater underneath, leather pants, thigh high boots that were bursting with brown fur, and sleek black gloves adorned your much smaller frame.

Today, you and Shay had to clean and prep the Morrigan for the sudden winter. If she was to leave port later, she would have to be cleaned, dusted, and the wood re-stained. Plus, when you went with Shay to some of his contracts, you would complain about the clutter in his cabin so he promised to fix that today. Only thing was, Shay didn't want to do anything today. You had to drag him out of bed like a child only a few hours ago.

But you had none of it, and where you went, Shay followed. With one last sip of your hot drink, you peeled Shay off of you and stepped outside. Within the second, Shay was at your side and holding your hand. He's always so starved for physical contact.

Outside, the wind was calm in the world was quiet. Not even a mouse could be heard. It was only November, and yet it felt like Christmas would be tomorrow. The thick snow acted as a buffer for all the sounds in the world, and for a moment it felt as if you and Shay were the only people on the earth. Switching from hand holding to holding his arm, the two of you made your way to the port slowly.

Once there, the Morrigan was the only ship in port. She looked slightly beat up and in need of love, and you were about to give her that today.

Shay led you under the hull and told you in the sweetest voice imaginable “Sweep, organise, mop, and get out any buffs. Think you can do that, Love?”

“Better than you could,” you mock challenged him.

He just chuckled at you and have a soft kiss on your forehead before leaving. Gist could be heard yelling, or rather, talking to Shay about the work for today. You just shook your head and started the long task ahead of you

____________________________________________

It took the whole day, with Shay stopping you a couple of times for food, but you were finally finished. If she got any marks on her, you would scold that sailor to hell for that.

But now it was time for Shay to check, “Hey, Shay!” You called up.

“Yes, Love?” Shay called down.

“Can you check my work?”

All you heard next was boots shuffling down and Shay suddenly hugging you as if you were gone for a whole week.

“I love you too,” you chuckled back as you patted his back.

Shay just pulled back and looked over your work meticulously. “Do it again,” he coldly mumbled to you.

You were so stunned you couldn't speak. Was he serious? No. Of course not.

Shay slowly turned to face you with the biggest shit-eating grin possible. Yep. He was joking.

“Oh,” you evily chuckled, “ because of that, we're not going to the pub.”

His face became crestfallen in an instant. Immediately, he had puppy dog eyes and was holding both of your hands, “I was just kidding. Can we please go to the pub? I worked really hard today,” he begged.

Oh and how could you resist that accent? “Okay, we can go,” Shay almost cheered, “But, you have to warm me up in bed tonight. It's gonna be cold.”

Shay only offered his arm without complaint as you two climbed up the stairs to the deck. Gist was standing there and waiting. His hat was crooked but he still had a grin on his face.

“Are you and Miss. (Y/N) done for the day?” He eagerly asked.

“Aye, go home, Gist,” Shay dismissed Gist and continued on with you on his arm.

The pub was located right near the docks and was loud with the crew sharing a drink and meal for the night. The second you two walked in the pun erupted in cheers. They died down after a few seconds though, waiting for the long standing tradition between you two.

Without skipping a beat, you and Shay yelled in unison, “How are we tonight, lads?”

To which they replied together, “Very well!”

After that, you two shrugged off your coats and sat down at a booth where a crewmate gave you a pint and beef stew. The atmosphere chased away the cold and brought back memories for you and Shay. For you, your past life in Canada in that small supplies shop where the manager berated you until Shay came in and stopped it. And for Shay, the Assassin's and his old friends. The two of you reminisced to each other until it was time to leave.

You touched the door when the crew cried out in protest at you going away. “Men,” you replied, “I'll be on the Morrigan in two days with you all! Surely you can wait until then, no?” You replied to them. And of course, they were ecstatic that you were joining them. They claimed that the food was better and the weather was fairer when you were onboard. It was then that you took your leave with Shay in tow.

After the noises from the pub died down, Shay spoke to you, “You know,” he started off, “The crew respect you so much. I'm getting a little jealous.”

“Be careful, Captain Cormac,” you teased, “I'd hate to see a mutiny on your hands.”

Shay pretended to act shocked as the he stepped inside the shared house, “A mutiny by my own wife? What a tale!” It was then that he pretended to faint on the bed. Quickly getting under the covers, you joined him.

After getting comfy and warm, his stubble scratched the back of your neck, “Goodnight. I love you,” he murmured.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back. And with Shay warming up your body and heart, you quickly fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this for NaNoWriMo Day four and I thought it deserved to be on here! I just had so much fun writing it!
> 
> The past life I'm referring to can be found here:
> 
> https://mylittleacobsession.tumblr.com/post/160592721363/title-you-shouldnt-have-done-that


	25. Worry ( Altaïr x Reader )

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Altaïr Haas been out for too long. Your worry festers as he continues to be out past a reasonable time.

The air of the bureau with stiff with the thick smell of Frankincense. Altaïr had left you in Malik's care as he went to gather information on his newest target for Al Mualim. He said he'd be back by nightfall but at this point the moon was far overhead and your worries wouldn't stop.

“Sister,” Malik tried to calm you down, “I'm sure he's okay. Maybe he's already killed his Target?”

Your pacing furiously in front of the counter didn't cease. “No,” you mumbled, “Not with you giving him a feather.”

Malik stayed silent for a while, his scribbling hand stopped but the worry set in his stomach, too. “Sister-” he started.

“No,” You stopped Malik's attempts at Comfort, “I need to go. Now.”

Malik was about to stop you when you continued to ramble on.

“Don't Stop Me. Altaïr might be dead somewhere. Oh God,” your mind went rampant as gruesome thoughts pricked tears at your eyes, “What if he's in an alley somewhere and bleeding out? What if a guard is hurting him right now and I'm just here worrying away?” Tears were streaming down your whole face, “Oh God. I need to find him right now.”

Just as you turned to leave the musky office, a shallow thump resounded in the thick silence.

“A-Altaïr?” You stuttered out, your voice being strained slightly from worry.

“Yes, Habibi?” He deep voice was surprised and cautious.

“Oh god,” you whispered as you ran to see him. 

Altaïr was standing in the middle of the open parlour with mud caked on his boots. He slowly took off his hood to reveal his slightly tousled hair and eyes knitted with worry at your disheveled form.

“Oh god,” was all you could whisper before barreling him into a hug. His muscles tensed at your sudden outburst, subconsciously demanding an explanation, “I thought I lost you,” you finally cried.

“Shh,” he relaxed and petted your head, “I'm not dying on your watch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okayyy. Short one this time! I hope y'all like it! 
> 
> This week I'm getting grad photos and I'm going to see if I can bring my cat with me! If I can, it'll be an interesting ride home on transit;;


	26. Bullet holes (Desmond x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond is just a kid in your makeshift operating room, that is, until he just randomly asks you out to a date

To you, it was just another young trainee in the sick bay. A teenager that was a little too careless during his exercises. This time, he managed to ricochet the bullet on the wall, missing the target, and hitting him in the front of the shoulder. It hurt him, that you were sure of. And what did the doctor trust you with? Taking the bullet out in the examination room. Not even letting you use the sanitary room, prick.

“Okay,” You flipped through his rather thick file as you walked in the small room, “Desmond-” Looking up you saw he was about the same young and stupid age as you. It wasn’t abnormal for people to just accept you as the Doctor's assistant, even if you were so young, as the ripe age of eighteen, it’s not like the small farm had much to go off of. “I see that you’ve been hit in the shoulder with a bullet.”

“That sounds right,” Desmond spoke. His voice had hints of pain in it, but you could see that he was just trying to play it off while casually sitting on the bed in the middle of the room, the thin paper rustling slightly.

“Okay, I need you to lay down on the table that you’re sitting on and take off your shirt, can you do that?” You asked as you grabbed a clean sock, gauze, and a pair of tweezers along with a steel bowl to put the bullet in.

You heard rustling behind you as Desmond lay on down on the table. The thin sheet of paper was only there so people thought it was sanitary. In truth, it wasn’t all that clean, but, peace of mind is important.

“What’cha gonna do to me, nurse?” Desmond cockily asked as he struggled to take off his shirt while laying down.

“I’m taking the bullet out that you so stupidly got into yourself. Any complaints, Mr. Miles?”

“Are you sure you’re qualified for that?” Desmond quietly asked as you hovered over his shoulder.

“Try not to scream,” you responded as you shoved the clean sock in his mouth. Soon after was you least favourite part, taking the bullet out. Truly, you hated causing harm, but, the facade had to be put up so you could be in and out with your jobs without causing any undue pain. The Doctor always claimed that he was too busy for these “small” things like talking bullets out or stitching up wounds when the simple fact was that he just didn’t know what to do.

Desmond screamed a bit and tried to not squirm as the bullet wiggled its way out with a fuss. Finally ceasing his light yelling and panting through the sock. When the foreign object finally clanged against the bowl. Quickly, you moved to put in a few stitches and cover it in a dressing before the adrenaline wore down.

Once the easier task was finished, you slowly let him sit up and put his shirt back on while you moved to wash things in the small sink, even if you wanted to stare just a bit longer as his chest. Guess you’d have to settle for his pretty face.

“Damn,” Desmond chuckled, “You this mean to everyone you sew up or am I just special?”

“I don’t like doing it, you know,” You admitted a sheepishly you cleaned up the room and yourself, “Is there something I can do to make it better?”

“You telling me you have lollipops or something?”

“Well, I just don’t like seeing someone as young as you in pain,” You took a small orange lollipop from a container, holding it loosely in your hands

“As young as me? I thought we were about the same age,” Desmond acted hurt with a dramatic hand on his forehead

“We are,” You confirmed with a light pink tint on your cheeks

“Then,” Desmond moved to get out of the room, snatching the lollipop out of your hand, “How about a date? I’ll swing by later,” And with a wink that captured your heart, he was off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowowow, busy few weeks!! I'm glad to finally pump something out. It's been getting more and more difficult to latch on to creativity and self-discipline as of late. But! I'm sure I'll continue to write, it'll just be... Slower


	27. New Years (Desmond x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's new years and you and Desmond spend it like every other new year. In the downtown square with a well-deserved kiss.

The sky was filled with the heated breaths of thousands of people. Everyone was in the main square of downtown Boston for new years. The cold bit everyone on the tips of their nose, the redness prevalent wherever you looked, but it didn’t matter, the new year was almost here and nothing could stop people from an excuse to get drunk in public and yell at a screen. 

And you? You were with your loving boyfriend, Desmond. After his help in saving the world, you had to go back to desperately check if his body was as dead as William made it out to be. To your surprise, however, he was sitting on the floor with what seemed like one hell of a headache and a completely blacked arm. You knew that he could never go back to the Assassins, not when he was finally free from them and able to live a normal life if he was careful. Since then you two had been laying low in some cities with cash, made with him bartending and you doing odd jobs, and a few backpacks with minimal possessions. This time, he had decided against a Motorcycle and opted to walk, as long as you were there with him. You guys also couldn’t legally marry, but that wasn’t a problem. To him, marriage was a state of mind, not a piece of paper and a waste of money.

Every new year, you two would go to the downtown core of whatever city you were in and celebrate with the mass of people in the cold. To both of you, it was a little more emotional than what the average person made it out to be and an excuse to go out in public for a date.

Desmond held your hand after you two found a good place to stand, the warmth seeping into you and reminding you how alive he really was. How lucky you really were to trust your gut that fateful day. The people around you started counting from fifteen loudly as the giant screen flashed in bright colours.

“Are you ready?” Desmond squeezed your hand a little tighter as he yelled over the counting.

“I don’t think the world is going to wait for me to be ready,” You snarkily replied back while moving just a little closer to him. His scent of wood and alcohol mixed in with the cold.

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three!” Desmond leaned in a little closer, his lips ghosting over you in anticipation for the people to finish counting.

“Two!” Desmond didn’t wait and kissed you. His scar and stubble creating an interesting texture on your lips that left you breathless every time he kissed you on New Years. It was always different. A bit of longing, sorrow, and excitement that made it rather unlike any other kiss during the year. This was definitely the best part of New Years.

“One!” Desmond finally removed himself to grab some air after a few seconds of rambunctious cheering from the people in the crowd.

“You cheated,” You panted out as you rested his forehead against yours.

“How am I supposed to hold myself when you’re right here?” he smirked in such a manner that it was damn near impossible to miss him.

“Cheeky bastard,” You giggled out and went in for another kiss that gave you warmth. Yeah, this was the best part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm posting this now because I'm going to be out for the weekend celebrating with a family friend shooting and drinking in the countryside and I want to get something out now, even if it feel a little rush. I do, however, have one request finished and lined up for the update, so, AssassinOfMasyaf, look out for that! And all of you are free to request anything so long as you're patient and leave criticisms (and maybe praise) on here
> 
> Other than that, Happy New Year! I hope you all find Love or a few moments for self-repair in 2018!


	28. Castles (Ezio x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As requested, You and Ezio infiltrate Cesare's castle to save Caterina

The night sky was clear while the cheerful city of Rome hummed in the background as you and Ezio climbed the large castle that belonged to nobody else than the Spaniard, Cesare Borgia. Tonight, you were working with your husband to rescue Caterina, a woman of high ranking that could help out both the Italian brotherhood and your Spanish brotherhood if you saved her tonight.

As the Grand Mentor of the Spanish Brotherhood, you had a bad rap with Cesare. His family influence was rampant in your citadels and whatever person tried to rebel against him and his allies would be killed, especially your assassins. Cesare had a group of mercenaries that worked for him, not the the side of the Templars or the Assassins, but rather on the side of coin. There was no way you could ever pay them to go away, and because they were taught with the highest skills from both orders, it was damn near impossible to kill them. It infuriated you to no end, and here you were with a chance to make him and his sister look like absolute fools.

Getting on top of the castle and inside was no problem, what was the problem was staying quiet while you and Ezio looked for Caterina. She must’ve been in the lowest level, which was a pain to get to because that would mean you’d have to either kill every guard on the way there or knock them out. Since the night would only last for so long, the only thing you two could do was, regrettably, kill them and loot their bodies for the keys.

Nearing the last stone corner in the never ending spiral you heard two voices squabbling. Two female voices, in fact.

“That must be Caterina and Lucrezia,” You whispered to Ezio behind you, “Let’s get her while we can, we have the spare key.”

“Go,” Ezio rumbled back, “I’ll be here if you need me.”

And with that you placed a chaste kiss on Ezio’s stubbly cheek for good luck, stood up, and started prowling towards the scene in the middle of the room. “Well well well,” You started, scaring Lucrezia well enough to face you, “I didn’t know you were in to this kind of thing. Enough room in here to make it a threesome?” You cockily rang out.

“Augh!” Lucrezia was shocked to her core, never before had someone said that to her, “I know who you are, Assassini from Spain. You wish to rid of my brother’s influence. But I doubt that will happen. Guards!” Lucrezia shouted for help. But instead what she got was a dull echo of her own shrill voice, the sound resounding for a few seconds before her face turned to absolute shock and fear.

“I don’t think that’s how this is going to work, Lucrezia,” You chuckled darkly while you continued stalking towards her, a length of rope pulled taut in your hands.

Lucrezia screamed out in loud protest while you tied her up in a degrading hog-style for the next person to come by. Finishing the job off with a ball of cloth tied messily around her thin cheeks and into her mouth to shut her up.

“Done and done, Ezio!” You called out to your husband as he walked in from the shadows, Caterina instantly perking up when she heard his name.

“Good,” Ezio started out low, “I was thinking you’d need my help.” He came closer to you and planted a sweet kiss on your cheek. “Now, Let’s help out our poor damsel in distress, yes?”

The metal clunked and shifted as Ezio opened up the gate to Caterina. Her leg was broken as she couldn’t walk, Ezio offering to help her out of the castle by carrying her, which was fine by you, considering how she looked as you with defeat when she caught a glimpse of both of your wedding rings. She knew that you were his, but that didn’t mean her hands weren’t free to roam Ezio’s chest, striking jealousy within you. Once this was finished, you were going to prove to Ezio that Caterina wasn’t the only woman he could carry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! Alright! I like how this turned out! It was a labour, and even if it's short, I am so proud of this!

**Author's Note:**

> Make sure to comment if you have any ideas!


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